Hellmouth Series: The Board
by Buffkin
Summary: Lock and the Hunters lead a full scale attack on Fabini, Yossarian, and The Board at the Cleveland City Banquet.
1. Default Chapter

Hellmouth #10  
"The Board, Pt. 1"  
  
The halls of the two-story, abandoned house near the end of 5th are stricken with chaos. The power went out five minutes ago and its inhabitants, twenty or so vampires, have one-by-one started turning to dust. By the fifth vamp down, the group rationalized that an assassin, possibly many, has been watching them and striking them down. They bounce from wall to wall and hallway to hallway, hoping not to die, but their numbers continue to shrink. The nearly invulnerable species of vampire finds that it knows fear, and the group is downright terror-stricken. The lessened group sprints down the remainder of the main hallway, desperately looking towards the exist as the dust of their former comrades seems to follow with the momentum of their descent. Suddenly the door to the outside bursts wide, light from the moon casting an ominous silhouette of the offender, but the group knew all too well the danger they were in. A crack of fire from a cylinder in his hands spells doom for the two in front, dust cascading on the floor and the smell of gunpowder filling the room. The silhouette laughs a deep and booming cackle at the fearful group, wiping the dust from their clothing and pulling themselves from off their backs. They turn and make their way backwards, fear leading them to forget the conspirators that were chasing them in the first place. The door in their current direction bursts open, and the darkness of the room conceals their killers, despite the innate vampiric ability to see and thrive in the darkness. A distinct sound of air tearing breaks the monotony of the treacherous laughing and wooden bolts tear into and through the flesh of the vampires. Some turn to dust, others pierced in less than lethal areas, but the sound of their screams more than drowned out the booming of the large man behind them. Another flash of fire and gunpowder erupts from the laughing man, showering the backs of his intended victims. The sources of the hailstorm of bolts rip into the room and with wooden stakes and crosses, they finish off whatever fanged beast crawls and wiggles on the ground. Literally, the dust settles and the assassins make themselves known.  
"Wasn't there a time when this was, like, ten times harder?" Gene asked, stepping from the entrance of the run-down house, putting the safety back on his patented "wooden-tipped bullet" shotgun.  
"Remember what I told you about the gift horse, Gene? We worked long and hard to build a reputation and intimidation is the key to slaying. If they see us as the boogie-men, then they're easier to kill," Lock smiled as he explained.  
"Still though, it makes all the newbies you have on your Regulars squad less appreciative of all the man-hours we clocked to earn this boogie- men status," Gene gawked, mentally trying to figure out what is vampire dust and what is property-neglect dust.  
"Their necks are attached; I think they're appreciative enough," Lock kicked over a taped together chair. Suddenly a door burst open behind them and a male figure came sprinting through it, huffing and puffing and scared out of his mind. Nicholas raised his reloaded crossbow and aimed at the man's heart. Lock screamed for Nick to halt and he did. "Watch," Lock said. He walked over to the man and placed a cross in his hand. The man held the cross and looked around, still terrified. "He's human. And we don't kill humans."  
"Wait, how could you tell at first? I mean, how did you know to stop me?" Nick asked, confused, as were two other "newbies" who had just finished their preliminary training.  
"Well, first and foremost, this guy is horrendously out of breath, and fangs don't breathe. Plus, we scoped this place an hour before we cut the power. We held a very accurate count of the vampires in here and we herded them perfectly in towards Gene. There is no way we could have miscounted," Lock sounded very sure of himself. He turned to the exhausted stranger, "How'd you end up in here?"  
The stranger motioned over to a door to a closet, it seems, dead- bolted on the outside. Lock gave the go-ahead to Gene, who broke the dead- bolt off with the butt of his shotgun. The door opened up to reveal a walk- in closet packed with what seemed to be teenagers and young adults, obviously drug abusers, each looking like they have been trapped in there for a week or more. Lock closed his eyes and massaged his eyelids, lifting his head and voice when he was finished, exclaiming, "Alright, folks, y'all are safe. The monsters are dead and you all are free to go home. But listen to me closely: if you deal with bad things, bad things will happen to you. If you bring drugs back into this place or any other vacant lot around here again, we may turn the other way if something like this happens. Y'all have been warned. You will not bring down a neighborhood we fight so hard to protect. There will be no 'next time.' This happens again, and you will never see anyone you love again. Now get the hell outta here."  
The packed room cleared out, drug addicts who would normally argue with him opt against it given the present circumstances. They crowd out and Nick notices a change in Lock's demeanor. Nicholas hasn't been with the group long, but he has been here long enough to know that Lock has two gears; Lock is jovial and happy around Gene and everyone off-duty, and he has leader-mode, where he is a moral blank slate and he runs off of instinct and training. Sadness, along with most other emotions, don't normally apply to Lock, thus making his new somber demeanor something of a surprise. "Lock..... What's the matter?" Nick whispered.  
"Fabini's finally playing this game right. We make it a habit not to get involved in human affairs, like criminals and, in this case, we're talking about a crack house....." Lock said after the last of the crack- heads in question moved out.  
"Crack house," Gene pondered, "Couldn't we call it something nicer to make it sound less semantically bad? This is our neighborhood and all. How bout something foreign, like la maison de crack?"  
"Cops ain't trained to handle vampires, so they don't, and in that respect, we leave evil of the human kind alone. We don't wanna face two enemies at once, especially when we cant stick wood in their hearts and forget about em. But this one was well thought out: I mean, you have a place that we wouldn't normally check, and you store the people boarding themselves in here because these are people that, more likely than not, nobody will miss. So you have a safe hideout and an all-you-can-drink crack-head supply. Fabini really did his homework on this one," Lock said, more to himself than to Nicholas.  
"Why is that so bad? I mean, I'm all for saving humanity and all, but I'm not gonna lose any sleep because some crack-head decides to drown his sorrows in drugs and winds up a meal....." Nick said.  
"Regardless, it means that we cant possibly be assured that we've stopped or even slowed down Fabini's army plans. We check the grunt sites every night, but Lord knows where they've been holed up....."  
"That aint really a problem. All we gotta do is bend our moral standards a bit and do some undercover work in the seedier parts round here and we're game," Gene said.  
"Not that easy, my friend. Fabini's trial is tonight, and whatever he's been building for, it's going down tonight. We're out of time....."  
"What are we gonna do? Shouldn't we be there?" Nick asked hurriedly.  
"No deal. I contacted Jenn and the Recon team. They're there as I speak, waiting for everything to start up," Lock made eye contact with Gene and Gene looked away. Gene doesn't turn his back to much, but the very mention of the recon team makes him uneasy, knowing that it was one of the very few things that Lock hid from him back in the past. "Let's get on back," Lock said, putting his palm on Gene's shoulder, "because they're gathering the information for us, and we're the ones who're gonna use it." .................................................................................................... ........  
  
Two hours later and about three pots of coffee downed, Lock sits in Larson's chair while Jules, Larson, and Gene bounce ideas off the walls. "No, whatever we do, it has to be undercover. We cant afford a full offensive against the Board. They have troops to match, not to mention that we'll be watching both ends if Fabini makes it out tonight," Lock said, stretching his feet out on Larson's fine wood desk.  
"Which brings me to the question, why the hell are we here? We know officially squat right now, and sitting around here aint gonna help the problem," Gene protested.  
"Nope, we know quite a lot actually. You see, I had lunch with Jenn last week after we scrapped with the first of Fabini's armies and I had her assemble the Reconnaissance Units and follow what few of the board members we could find. Everyone ready?"  
Everyone took that as a hint to grab a seat, but somebody stepped clean through the doorway, stopping Lock's words cold; "I'm not," she said, walking in.  
"Ky," Lock said. Jules jumped out of her seat and hugged her around the neck hard, and then she made a comment about how Gene's bitchy wife yelled at her, thus inducing a small smack on the back of the head from Gene. Gene wrapped his arms around her neck and hugged her tight, gently kissing her forehead. Ky smiled and patted him on the butt, a gesture light-hearted enough to get a chuckle out of Larson. Then there was Ky and Lock. Just them. Larson, Gene and Jules were still there, but the tension was enough to blind them out of the picture. "Can we talk?" Lock asked. "Later. You were just about to get all expositionie. I mean, I didn't mean to interrupt..... I just wanted to grab a chair before you started going," she said, her tone showing Lock where he stood.  
"Right. Okay, here goes. Jenn and the Recons were only able to find and follow two members of the Board. We found out there are four members of the actual board itself, all four of them are vampires, and they've broken up Cleveland into four sections. Fabini is or was in charge of the Western region. They also have a human member by the name of Jacob Manning. Ring a bell?"  
"Yeah. He's a lobbyist, right? Works for an accounting firm and he has heavy contacts with the state..." Gene added his input.  
"Yep, and he's also perfect proof that humanity is often the worst demon of em all. He runs the group, kinda like an underground liaison between the state and city government and the demon community. They have one member that's strictly a demon. We don't have a name or anything, but we do know that he's an Aerimaligantic type..... Big, strong and nasty, but luckily he only works as a general demon representative to the Board and rarely interferes in extra-curricular activities, if you will. We shouldn't even see him, much less expect any trouble from him."  
"So who exactly are we fighting?" Ky asked.  
"Me and Larson talked about this earlier. Technically we have supposedly good relations with the Board to the point where they aren't immediately gunning for us. We wont have any such reservations. Priority one is sticking wood through Fabini's chest and hopefully anyone he managed to raise. We'll be in the mouth of it all when this hit's the fan, so second priority is killing anybody on the Board. As for Manning, I'm ready to see how he likes Cedar in the chest, but Larson here insists that we turn him in to the police or something. He's more than likely going to get off clean with the cops, but the feds might think something different. Don't really care; like I said, first priority is that Fabini is dust. For what it means, I'm thanking y'all in advance because this is a job I should've done myself months back."  
"Alright, then Locklear, I suppose it's my turn to ask..... How are we actually doing this?" Larson asked, returning to his tea.  
"From what I've mapped out, and this is purely under the assumption that everything goes the way I think it will at Fabini's trial, then this....."  
"What makes you so sure things are gonna go that way? Shouldn't we be there, arrows and Hellfire blazing?" Jules interrupted, "Cuz the way I see it is Fabini's gonna be sentenced to death and he's gonna bring down his horde, and that would be the prime time to bring the hammer down on whatever 'survivors' make it out....."  
"No, he isn't like that. Fabini's a showman. Those vamps he's raised are his protection from getting killed. I know his type, and I know that he knows just like I do that the Board has a major fundraising gala every year, and that gala is next week. If Fabini's gonna throw down the gauntlet, it won't be tonight unless someone provoked it, like us, because he'd rather make a show of it. We're not there tonight because if we were, it would be all of them versus us, and those odds ain't good. At the Gala, it will be Fabini vs. the Board vs. us, and that makes for better chances."  
"Well, just get to it; tell us straight. What are we doing?" Gene asked, now impatient.  
"First things first, how do y'all look in formalwear?" Lock smiled. .................................................................................................... ...........  
  
The main Cleveland courthouse was a mastery of structural magnificence in its time. Since then, it has hosted many cases and protected justice to its greatest extent. On certain nights, nights like this one in fact, the history and the majesty of the building becomes far less important than the inhabitants of it. The current hosts happen to be four vampires and a human, one vampire singled out and seemingly lonesome. The others stood in front of him, literally on pedestals feet above the lonesome vampire when the one human spoke: "Fabini of the West, you are here on terms of permanent dismissal from what we call The Board. The allegations brought on your name are severe and centered against your fellow members. Yossarian of the North, if you will....." Yossarian, the tall, slender, and unnaturally pale vampire stepped forward, completely business but his eyes screamed that he has never been happier. "Fabini of the West, your allegations include and are not limited to: fraternization with the rogue entity known as 'The Hunters,' inclusion of said Hunters in internal affairs of the Board, conspiracy to corrupt internal affairs of the Board, conspiracy to risk ill-will on your fellow members, and lastly, lack of public discretion. One of these felonies, much less all of them, results in immediate expulsion and death by fire. What do you plead?"  
Fabini gave them the finger.  
"As you wish, the Board will accept that as a plea of innocence and will put it to a vote, unless of course you have some kind of defense for your innocence?" Fabini stayed still, rolling his eyes and not saying anything. "As you wish," Yossarian continued, "As the Northern representative of this Board I lay your mercy on the hands of its members: All in favor of Fabini of the West's innocence, say 'ay'....." No sound was made accept from by Fabini himself, who simply laughed at how childish all this sounded to him. "As is my power as the Northern Representative of the Board, you are hereby relinquished of all duties and sentence to....."  
"Oh shut the hell up! Jesus! You guys are so tight-assed considering y'all are about to kill me. Plus, I know you guys have been following me and documenting everything I've been doing for the past three weeks, so you all well know about my new following," Fabini exclaimed, seeming very cocky.  
"Fine, we'll lose the act," Jacob Manning stepped forward and retook the stand, "You're right, we know exactly what you've been up to and you should be thankful that we at least gave you a fair trial....."  
"FAIR? What the hell is this? Where is the jury of my peers? Where is my attorney??"  
"This is not a court of American law, Fabini. This is jury and judge by your peers, your ONLY peers, the same ones that you put on the line because of your bitter rivalries. You are way too much of a liability for this group and if you thought you had any chance you would stay the western rep, even if you built some great big army, then your brain is as dead as you are!"  
Yossarian stepped forward again, "Did you think some vampire army would make us take you back?"  
Slowly, the room started filling with what seemed to be fifty some- odd vampires, forming around their general on trial. "No," Fabini said, "but I have no intentions of being dusted tonight, and if you think otherwise, well then you can bring it on."  
"You have no honor, Fabini," Brother said, noting the agreement to leave personal militia out of the inner circle of the Board.  
"Yeah? Say that when you walk in my shoes before your friends try to throw you in a bonfire," Fabini mocked, turning his back and walking towards the exit.  
"THIS ISNT OVER, FABINI! AFTER WE ELECT A NEW WESTERN REP, YOU WILL BE OUR FIRST TARGET!!!" Jacob screamed, infuriated that he didn't bring his own militia.  
"Don't worry. I'll be there," Fabini laughed, walking nonchalantly out the front door.  
"So will we," Jenn said, motioning to her Reconnaissance Units to slip out of their harnesses and make their way back through the ceiling patch. 


	2. Hellmouth Series: The Board, Pt 2

Hellmouth #11  
"The Board, part 2"  
  
Almost dead-center of downtown Cleveland, Friday night is in full effect, teenagers running around with fake id's, college students collecting dirty laundry and driving home for the weekend, and everyone's fair share of alcohol is running like fountains. The business buildings are practically empty, with the lawyers and the random businesspeople taking care of their pre-weekend plans. At 1436 Main Street, however, a dim light is shown through a window on the twenty-fifth floor, at the stock broking offices of Berry, Evans, and Fuller. Inside, the light is caused by a slight fire in a copper plate on the desk, surrounded by several multi- colored sands, a book, and a gem held on the far side of the room, glowing. In cages lined against the wall are different breeds of bird, each wrapped up with tape around their beaks, fluttering in their harnesses. Three men draped in green robes circle the fire on the desk, whispering phrases in an unregistered language. Their arms wave slowly over the fire, rubbing against one another and flowing like water above it, the words taking on more of a rhythm, like a never-before-spoken children's rhyme. The lights flash on.  
"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you know where the bathroom is, cuz this place is huge!" Lock joked, walking in in front of Gene and Aimee, a member of the coven units.  
"What the hell are you doing here?!" the lead man in the purple robe screamed.  
"Makin an Indy film," Gene returned, focusing the handheld video camera in his hand to focus in on the new light in the room, "And it's pretty too! I think we're gonna call it 'Caught'..."  
The lead-robed man launched himself towards Gene and the camera. Lock stepped forward and laid a haymaker into the man's jaw while Gene closed the camera and threw it out the opened window. The other two robed men ran to the window to watch the camera plummet and break when it stopped flying towards the ground and instead started floating gracefully down towards a blue van, where Larson grabbed it and Ky delivered a peaceful smile to the open window.  
"Okay, so lets play role-call, shall we?" Lock began. "This guy on the floor, I'm guessing, is Fuller. You must be Evans, and you... Berry?"  
"Actually, my name is Frank. Berry couldn't make it tonight. They said they'd move me outta mail room if I help em out," one of the robed-men said.  
"Okay..... Frank..... well, the tape that so gently fell into my associates' hands down there contains video of the three of you in socio- politically compromising positions, performing... what were they performing, Aimee?"  
Aimee slowly moved her way from fingering the sands to rubbing the glowing gem. "This is nice. Rare too. From what I can see, with the sands, the birds, the gem, and the fire, it looks like they were trying some kind of foresight spell. It looks like they were invoking the owl goddess Ordan..... Oh, I get it. They were gonna use this spell to give them foresight, so they could call the right calls in the stock market, right fellas? Know when to hold em, know when to fold em kinda deal....."  
"Yes," Fuller said, standing up and correcting his jaw from the punch, "Yes indeed. Good call. But that aint gonna help you. Your only proof of any of this went out the window with the camera. Our lawyers will have a field day bouncing ideas off the wall to explain that, but it wont prove anything....."  
"Aww, shit, I forgot to turn off the tape recorder," Gene pulled an audio recorder out of his pocket and threw it out of the window, resulting in the same peaceful descent as the video camera.  
Lock smiled and Fuller went to sit down in his chair, sulking, "Don't worry, now fellas! Chin up! There wont be any families breaking up or careers being destroyed or any of that, as long as everyone is compliant. Now, first and foremost, this kinda stuff cant be going down. Aimee, how are we gonna fix this?"  
"Well, ironically enough, this is an Eyefrition Gem, and every spell that this goes with involves fire but with this gem.....," she placed the gem in the plate of fire, "touching real fire completely decimates its power. Problem solved....."  
"And that's that. So now everybody is going to be cool once we get two guarantees; first and foremost, we need you to cut all this non-sense out and buy yourselves a subscription to Wall Street, cuz if ole Martha has taught us anything, it's that messing with other people's money gets you jail time. And number two; we know that you all like to dabble in politics, and who can blame you? So word on the street is that you all have a personal invite to go to the Cleveland City Banquet, and we would like to represent you. More importantly, we want to be there at the Board's Invitational Fundraiser. Now I would say 'give me the tickets' but A) I'm nicer than that, and B) We will be using your names, the names on the tickets, so this is all very hush hush." Lock grabs a seat and moves it over to Fuller. Lock straddles the chair and raises Fuller's head, making sure he has his full attention, " And if you stay hush-hush, then we stay hush-hush. Got it?"  
"Wait a minute," Evans spoke out angrily, "You barged into our place and assaulted us while we were doing a benign, peaceful little spell! How are we supposed to trust you?"  
"You don't have to. As a matter of fact, I suspect you'll piss yourself every night until you convince yourself that everything's cool. I assume you'll hate me and him and her and you'll live in fear every night and that, even when you think you're even remotely okay, you'll be on your p's and q's so tightly because if you pull your head out of the sand, we'll be there, and your lives are over. The truth of the matter is, we are the blackmailers. You here, despite the fact that you are mystical criminals, you're the victims. If you choose to trust us, you'll only do it because you don't have a second choice." Lock turns to Fuller, "We have a deal?"  
Fuller reaches in his desk drawer, causing Gene to tighten and raise his crossbow instantly, aiming right at Fuller's jugular. Slowly, Fuller continued, pulling out the three "plus one" tickets he had, handing them to Lock. Lock smiled, grabbed Fuller by the back of his neck, pulled him in and kissed him on the forehead. Gene and Aimee followed Lock out the door, Gene backing out, smiling and waving as he uncocked the crossbow and pulled the doors closed.  
Saturday went by relatively quick, and Lock and Gene found that finding a tux this close to a major public event like the Cleveland City Banquet is next to impossible, but of course they managed to save the life of at least one Fine Clothing Store manager who was more than delighted to help them out in a bind. Aimee and Ky went shopping to pick up some "plus one" evening dresses (they just used it as a cover to shop for other things as well, to celebrate Aimee's raise to a special team field unit for this mission). They happily invited Jules, but she already had a dress "for just this type of occasion"; Jules opted to go with Lock, Gene, and Larson to make sure they looked just right for the event (considering this is the first time any of them had the chance to play "dress-up" for a mission). When they got everything they needed from the tux shop, Lock gave the man his money and Gene followed it up with a fair warning about the chances of the tuxes getting back they way they left the store.  
A non-profit group like the Hunters often finds it hard to squeeze everything they can out of a dollar, so Lock decided to make the sacrifices in terms of the transportation; once the girls decided they looked better than they've ever had the chance, Lock took the van to a spot about six miles away from newly built Aldrich Manor, an obscenely large mansion built a few blocks down from the Governor's townhouse. Much to the chagrin of the females, they walked. Ky has proven herself many times over in combat that she is a skilled warrior, and Aimee and Jules have equally pulled their fair share, but no one can understand pain until you've hiked six miles down a dirt road in heels; Ky and Aimee traded ideas back and forth regarding whether or not they could concentrate hard enough to levitate themselves there while Larson and Gene debated the quality of British foods.  
"You do realize that this could so be us, right?" Jules asked when they reached the wide open Aldrich Manor's main hall, basking in it's wide open glory. Aldrich Manor, from its actual conceptualization, was meant to be a reception hall and an upper-echelon dining experience for important occasions. While they nailed the idea on the head, this mansion far exceeded what the idea men had in mind. "Yep, this could be us if we went commercial. Do you realize the government contracts we could have if we began contracting this kind of stuff? I mean, all the money they spend on stopping real organized crime, they could spare some for us stopping the vampire mafia."  
"True," Ky responded, "and while we're at it, we can copyright our whole "we do it for the people" speech." Stepping into the banquet hall took everyone's breath away. Lock instantly went into serious detective mode, memorizing faces and locations in the room. Gene grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and began embarrassing Larson with a faux British accent. Aimee giggled, excited and equally frantic about her first field mission. Ky smiled for the first time in a long time and bowed to Gene when her feet hit the dance floor. Gene bowed in return and handed the glass over to Larson, who could only think of how surreal it was when Gene grabbed her and they began waltzing like the thickest blue-bloods could. Jules fluttered her eyelashes Lock's way, but he didn't even come close to catching the glance; his mind was in the work. Larson, Aimee, and Jules had a seat at the Berry, Evans, and Fuller table while Lock slowly approached the bar, still trying to recognize anybody from the mug shots of the Board that Larson was able to pull up last week. Gene and Ky realized that through their exquisite dancing, they were drawing some attention to themselves and after receiving a dirty look from Lock across the floor, they met up at the table. Lock soon made his way as well, angered at not spotting anyone.  
"All the trouble we went through to get these tickets and I don't see a damn one of them," Lock complained. Gene started to reply until a guest popped up at their table: "Good evening, everybody. My name is Jacob Manning. I'm the host tonight and I just wanted to know if everything has been satisfactory up to this point?" Lock swallowed hard, and Larson did the dirty work for him: "Yes. Ummm..... Everything seems to be fine, thank you." Manning paused, noticing their sudden stiffening in temperament. "Berry, Evans and Fuller, eh? I am familiar with Niles Berry. He couldn't make it tonight?" he asked.  
"No sir, my uncle is on vacation at the moment. I'm his nephew Franklin Niles Berry. These are his associates Michael Evans and Joseph Fuller. We're here representing the firm," Lock filled in the blanks.  
"Excellent," Jacob smiled, "Well, don't let me twist your arms or anything, but keep in mind that this is our only fundraiser for our group and that the same rules apply, being the better the gift, the greater the rewards. And Mr. Fuller, are you sure we haven't met somewhere before?"  
Gene stalled when he heard his obviously new code name, "Yeah, I'm sure we've run into one another at some event. It's a shame though, that we've shared this continent for a little over two hundred years and you white folks still can't tell two brothas apart....."  
Manning smiled cautiously, apologized, and moved to the next table. Gene wiped a tear of repressed laughter from his eyes before he realized that the table was giving him dirty looks. "Was that really necessary?" Larson asked in his snooty British tone. "Nah," Gene calmed himself, "but Lock wont let me dance and I've got to get my jollies somehow."  
"Christ, there he is," Lock said under his breath, sounding like a child who just found his lost toy. "Fabini?" Ky asked. Lock shook his head, "No, it's Yossarian. I'll bet you I'll find Fabini first though if I follow him. Alright guys, I'm gonna tail him around this place. From his profile, Yossarian doesn't like these events much, so I'm guessing he's gonna greet and get outta here. I'm sure Fabini'll gun for him first. Gene, you're in charge." Lock got up from his chair watchfully and vigilantly moved through the crowd of well-dressed dancers and various partiers up to a small but wide flight of stairs, disappearing down a back hall in pursuit of his target. "Well, that was a classic Lock moment," Gene sneered, "Ky, you're in charge. I'm following his dumb loner ass." Larson ordered another round of champagne after downing Gene's.  
Lock crept through the hallways, finding his assumption correct when Yossarian shook his last required hand and made his way back through the corridors towards the back offices. Manning stepped out of a room leading back from the kitchen area and stopped Yossarian for a few moments. Lock stopped and leaned against the wall in the adjacent hallway to mentally prepare himself when Gene leaned against the wall right next to him. Lock fell to the floor with his stomach in his throat when Gene just appeared out of nowhere. Instant reflex from Lock lead to Gene catching a hard fist to his shoulder. Gene mouthed "Ow" while Lock peaked around the corner to ensure that Yossarian and Manning were at a distance enough to not hear them (especially considering vampire's superhuman audio sense). "What the hell are you doing here?" Lock whispered.  
"Apparently losing feeling in my arm, thanks," Gene replied.  
"I thought I ordered you to stay with the crew....."  
"Yeah, well, we planned this out pretty nicely and I don't remember listing you as a probable casualty, and if you face Yossarian by yourself, you will be."  
"Way to give me credit, Gene. I can handle a single vampire."  
"First and foremost, I'm not convinced you can because we try never to have to face that situation. We're humans, Lock. We're not slayers. We're not superheros. We are young adults who spend way too much time with Robin Hood weapons. Secondly, Yossarian is the eldest of the Board and has the most fighting experience. He isn't some regular new-born we'll find in the cemetery."  
"You're talkin like me, Gene."  
"I learn....."  
"Well, sometimes we need a little more of your flavor."  
".....fine..... But I'm with you on this one, no matter what you say. So fill me in on the plan....."  
"I go up to him, ask him where the bathroom is, flash him some neck veins, and hope he tries to kill me....."  
"Can we go back to thinking like you because thinking like me is getting a wee bit scary....."  
"Fine, why don't you go up to him and say, 'Hi, I'm Gene from the Hunters and I was wondering if you could point me towards a friend of yours, goes by the name of Fabini?' And while you're at it, ask him what his preference of wood is for the stake we're gonna put in his heart."  
"Now we're thinking like Larson."  
Once Manning returned through his kitchen door, Lock and Gene continued a silent pursuit of Yossarian until he turned yet another corner, and Lock instructed to Gene to keep distance. "Excuse me sir," Lock began his charade. Lock realized that the pictures give no justice to Yossarian at all, with the tall, pale, long-haired tyrant he sees now in front of him. He continued, "Howdy ther, sir. I am Karl Whisenhurst from the Alabama Crude Oil Refinery, and you would be.....?"  
"Busy. Is that all?" Yossarian said dryly.  
"Actually, partner, I been walkin round this maze for days it seems tryin to find the john. Any way you can help out a man in need by pointing me the right way?"  
"Listen Karl, why don't you....."  
Lock breaks into the obvious rejection by pulling out a handkerchief and loosening his neck tie completely, "Ooo boy, I cant tell you how outta shape I am. A few minutes walkin round here and my heart is pumpin like a bandit." Lock rubs his neck and flexes as best he can without showing obvious strain so as to get Yossarian in the blood-drinking mood.  
"Hmmm..... Actually, Karl, I have a private bathroom in my office in the back. If you like, you can use that one." For the first time tonight, including throughout the handshaking session, Yossarian moved with his normal smile on.  
Yossarian opens up into a marvelous office room with a large window that has the view of downtown Cleveland in it. From first impression, Lock could tell that this wasn't the normal place of operations for the Board or Yossarian, due to the lack of large, thick curtains to block out the sun (if it were out now). "Yowzers, yes sir, this is indeed one hell of an office you got here." When Lock turned again to ask where the bathroom was, he got just what he wanted: Yossarian the vampire. Instinctively, Lock sweep-kicked him onto his own desk and held him down with a stake over his heart and a cross inches from his smoking, sweating brow. The beast hissed and Gene took that as a clue to come into the office, himself having a similar reaction to the size and beauty of the office. "Hunters....." Yossarian hissed.  
Lock nodded, "Yeah, but your blood-suckin ass ain't our number one target. Where's Fabini?"  
"Are you kidding? After what he did to us at the Bloodring Tournament? You must have known by now that we kicked him to the wayside....." Yossarian replied.  
"We know, but y'all must have had something planned for tonight if he attacks. If anything, y'all should know where he is."  
"Fabini is a coward. He raised that army so we wouldn't kill him. He has what he wants, and we aren't gonna waste our time trying to hunt him down. He must be miles away from here....."  
"Fine then," Lock smiled, "I guess you just became our number one target....."  
Gene pulled out his infamous sawed-off shotgun and cocked it, instigating Lock to turn and yell, "What are you doing?"  
"If we're gonna execute him, we might as well make sure he's completely out of contention," Gene replied, rubbing the barrel lovingly.  
"Dude, we are seriously gonna have to talk about this. If you're gonna be my second, you're gonna have to show a little more common sense than this. If you let off a single round of that gun in a crowded mansion, then there isn't even a point in calling this 'undercover' work," Lock preached, Yossarian somewhat taken aback at how suddenly they both stopped thinking about him.  
"Okay, not a damn one of us is trained for covert undercover espionage crap, okay? And I did a perfectly good job taking over while you were takin it from that retarded vampire!"  
"You know, I have had just about enough of this. You ignored my instructions, you make fun of me here and in the hallway, and had you not shown up, I could have quipped a little more and still staked him."  
"Why are you arguing with me here but we're cool when we're on a hunt?"  
"Because you've been thinking with your ass tonight. I mean, I don't stress the military-esque nature of what we do, but I thought it was at least an understood thing that when a captain gives a command, you follow him. You have completely underminded every decision I've made tonight and you seem to've lost all common sense you've ever had when....." Lock takes a hard punch to the face and an elbow to the back of his skull, knocking him to the ground. In the same effort, Gene's hand took a kick to the sky, releasing the gun into the air and into the hands of the assaulter, Yossarian. "Damn you guys are thick," Yossarian laughed, pushing Gene up against the wall with the barrel end of his own shotgun, "But I think Mister Captain here overstated how loud a shotgun can be. What say we test it, huh?"  
Down in the reception hall, Ky, Larson, Jules, and Aimee sip lightly on their champagne and try to act calm, making diverse yet unattractive conversation. "Personally, I think that we all have at least one or two unpleasant personality flaws, but that at least keeps everything interesting," Jules stated.  
"But this isn't some kind of soap opera, Jules, nor is it anything more than a job or a calling. This is our responsibility to slay.....do, what we do..... Personality flaws shouldn't even have to effect us like it has been," Larson replied.  
"Are you trying to say something, Larson?" Ky asked, annoyed.  
"Of course not. Alright, fine, I just think that the emotional factor of what we do is getting to high for the jobs we are charged with. Indeed, we had a close call, but within a week of one another, you and Gene had to take..... What do you call it? 'Mental health days'? It just seems like things became very out-of-hand when we had a close call."  
"That wasn't a close call, Larson. If we get out of this situation by the hairs on our respective chiny chin-chins, then this will be a close call. What happened then was a planned attack on us directly, something that we did not instigate."  
"Sorry, Larson, but I gotta see it her way on this one," Jules agreed, "I mean, it just seems like we have no idea what we are getting ourselves into. We've always pointed the guns and we've never had the guns pointed back at us. We've always kinda felt like we've been dishing out justice and peace but we've never been the target before."  
"We have always been targets, well before you were with us, Jules. Plus, we absolutely instigated that attack on us. What we have been doing to Fabini and his group must be dreadful in his eyes, and from his perspective, we deserved everything we've had plus more."  
"How can you even say that? I mean, this is what we are putting our necks on the line for, and our choice of target makes that very literal," Ky asked.  
"I can say that because of who I am," Larson exclaimed. He realized how loud their conversation had gotten and he lowered his tone to continue, "This is based on our own personal callings, not anything that myself or Locklear or Gene put in your hearts. I was told when I was six years old that my blood line gave me the calling to become a watcher one day. Since that day, I have been told repeatedly that this was my reason for living, and just because I was never charged with a slayer of my own does not mean I can ignore my purpose. If you all cant respect that, then you should at least respect the calling of Locklear, because he is in the same situation as the rest of you except he has no reservations as to what his purpose is."  
"So we should look up to Lock because he'll sacrifice everything for 'the cause?'" Ky grumbled.  
"You of all people should know how wrong you are, Ky. In my heart I feel he would have called off this death march of a mission had you done away with this trivial opposition to him. You do realize that this hunt to destroy Fabini is just for you, don't you? Because Fabini hurt you?" Larson closed and rubbed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, contemplating his next words. "Locklear is not an emotional man on the outside, but inside he is a river of thoughts and feelings. Had Jon not made him captain, I would have pulled Locklear under my wings, because his passion is what drives him. And Ky, right now his passion is for you."  
While Jules understood Larson's words weren't as literal as she was taking them, the topic was making her uneasy; Aimee was abundantly intrigued by Larson's flowing mastery of his natural language further accentuated by his English accent and Ky was seeming more and more withdrawn as Larson's words broke down her mental defenses. Jules, however, decided to distance herself from the discussion and concentrate on the job she now found herself more passionate about. She spotted a horde of smoking politicians debating some inane topic in one corner while a table of judges were receiving the sucking-up of a lifetime from a group of upstart lawyers looking to gain a foot in the door of promising results in future cases. Further back, she spotted a prominent looking gentleman shaking hands much like Yossarian had earlier in the evening. "Uh, Larson, I hate to interrupt your expression of love for my boyfriend here, but that guy over there was definitely in the mug shots we scrounged up," she said.  
"You're right," he said, after giving her an exaggerated British glare, "That's Marquez. He's the Southern representative of the Board."  
"Whew, back to the job. Sorry, Larson, as tranquil as this tête-à- tête has been for me, the calling is calling me. C'mon Aims. We're tailing him, see if we cant drag something up. Lars, buddy, you're in charge now," Ky said, grabbing Aimee and practically flying out of her chair after Marquez.  
Larson exhaled and slumped in his seat, "Now that was bracing..... Are you alright?"  
"Just wonderin what we're doin here....."  
"I explained it just a second ago, that we're here because of what we fee....."  
"LARSON!" she yelled suddenly, catching his attention. She stood from the table and straightened her dress, "Shut up and dance with me."  
  
Larson shut up.  
Marquez seemed much more sociable than Yossarian was; where Yossarian was reluctant to say anything more than his welcomes and pleasantries, Marquez seemed to soak in the attention he received from his strong wit and undeniable charm. Ky and Aimee had a difficult time following and observing the charmer with his frequent stops and instantly intriguing conversations with anybody and everybody, especially those with matching chromosomes. To the expert eye, it would seem problematic that two girls are everywhere that one man is without any correlation to the man. Upon finishing another dazzling conversation with yet another inept blond, Marquez unexpectedly spun around to face the ladies: "Well, it would seem," he smiled, "that I have a few stalkers....."  
"Well, you have a high opinion of yourself, insisting we're stalkers and such," Ky insisted.  
"No stalkers? Then who are these two beauties who have followed me around two sweeps of the dance floor?" Marquez asked, no less charming.  
"Curious admirers. My name is Madelyn Ordan, and this is my dear friend Vanessa Fuller. Table nine."  
"Ah, Berry, Evans, and Fuller? Registered wives, I take it?"  
"You say that as if it's some kind of stereotype. And in fact, I am not. I'm actually the leading stockholder in the company."  
"Really.....? Beautiful and fully independent....."  
"Well, the beauty came natural, but the independence I fought long an hard for, so I'd appreciate not being disrespected and called a 'registered wife' of any sorts."  
Marquez laughed, "I am sorry, my dear." He grabbed her hand and kissed it.  
"Cold hands and lips, it seems," Ky added, making Aimee tense slightly, noting both as a sign of vampirism.  
"Most women find it appealing when they are used correctly," he smiled.  
"I'll bet you've never heard the word 'stop', have you, Mr.....?"  
"Marquez, and you would be surprised, Miss Ordan."  
"Marquez? Is that a first name? Last name?"  
"Marquez is all you need, my dear." Ky finally felt herself questioning where this line of interrogation was leading. "As for my thorough apology," Marquez added, "I will show you all the respect in the world if you promise me one dance before the night is finished." He bowed slightly and made his way past her and managed to lift and kiss Aimee's hand as well, her spine wanting to split from her back in anxiety. He climbed the stairs and walked back towards the halls that Lock and Gene went down earlier. After ensuring that they were no longer being watched, Ky and Aimee continued to follow Marquez down the hallways, this time much more warily. Marquez walked into the room that Manning had slipped in and out of earlier, leading to the kitchen. Ky slid the door to the kitchen open slightly and slowly crept in with Aimee, and when the door slowly came to a close, without warning, it locked.  
Yossarian laughed at the thought of a warrior who fought so hard against numerous opponents nearly weeks ago falling so easily at the hands of his own weapon when Lock jumped up and ran clean through the gun, grabbing like a running back would take a handoff. Lock rolled to the ground and emptied the gun of it's wooden-tipped bullet shells, throwing them to opposite sides of the room. Gene blocked two attempted punches by the vampire and returned two of his own, backing Yossarian away and giving him some room to maneuver. Gene blocked two more punches and a kick to his left side, but he didn't see another punch coming that cleared his jaw and sent him reeling. Lock stood and came towards him, but the vampire's quickness and agility allowed him to backwards somersault onto the desk and send a pen flying like a throwing star, cutting Lock's face on the side and piercing him right above the shoulder. Lock fell to his knees letting out a painful shriek and, with trembling hands, pulled the pen out of his muscle tissue. Gene made it to his feet angrier now, sweep kicking Yossarian onto his back on the table and bringing a stake down towards the monster's chest. Yossarian blocked and brought his foot up to kick his assailant in the face. Gene stumbled backwards while the beast rolled over from his back towards Gene. Yossarian's first punch had little effect on Gene, much to the monster's surprise, meaning he wasn't ready for Gene's flurry of angry punches.  
Lock sprinted at the now off-guard demon only to receive a back- handed fist that sent him into a wall of cabinets. The cabinets sprang open to reveal a dozen or more security monitors, each showing different rooms in the mansion. Gene's power-punching flurry settled into him taking several shot to the face including some very notable roundhouse kicks that sent Gene airborne and into the old grandfather clock in corner. Lock stood an shook off his prior two attempts at establishing an offense and stepped forward for a third. This time around, he actually traded blows with the demon before taking two more shots to the head and being thrown once again towards the now-exposed monitors, the back of his head actually going through the lowest monitors and cracking the glass. Gene jumped up and pulled a shard of glass from the clock out of his thigh and ran to his unconscious Captain. Without words, he growled loudly at Yossarian standing menacingly above him and threw his shard of glass much like the demon threw the pen. The shard stuck into the shin of the beast who curled in pain and didn't see the furious onslaught of punches, kicks, and elbows that Gene threw, expending any kind of fighting knowledge he's ever learned in any book or seen in any movie. Yossarian fell back against the wall to try and recover, but Gene continued the assault until the vampire grabbed Gene's fist, punched him once in the nose to knock him off-balance, and grabbed him by the throat and jamming him against the wall. Yossarian squeezed harder and harder to suffocate the Hunter until he felt a pain he's never felt before. Lock had managed to crawl over on his knees and, barely knowledgeable of what was going on due no doubt to his new concussion, he jammed his bloody pen as hard as he could into Yossarian's kidney. The vampire's hold on Gene released and as it violently ripped the pen out of his lower-back, Gene speared Yossarian back onto his table and put all his weight into driving his wooden stake into the vampire's chest. Quick reflexes gave Yossarian the inside track to block the stake shot to the heart, but his vampire strength was only enough to push Gene, who clearly had the leverage and the body weight advantage, to a standstill. Through loud grunts and feats of endurance, Gene screamed for Lock to wake back up.  
Ky panicked at the sound of the electronic lock trapping them inside the kitchen, but Aimee was the first to notice the ten vampires crawling out of their hiding spaces, including Marquez, who got Ky's attention when he began clapping and laughing. "Wooo, lord, you girls are good. I hate to admit when the wool gets pulled over my eyes, but you definitely had me on that one. I mean, I saw your face when you were following me and I thought, 'I know this aint the witch girl from the Hunters followin me, is it?' And when I stopped and talked to you, you were so convincing! You've got talent, my dear....."  
Tears started flowing down Aimee's face and she began hyperventilating when Ky grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly for support. Marquez sat on the stainless steel counter next to a row of sinks and continued, "..... and you must have brass balls hiding on you somewhere to think that you of all people could show up here and slide right in. Go ahead, make my day; tell me that black guy's here too. Seriously though, of all the Hunters you guys have, you couldn't have grabbed two different people? How man do you have? Two dozen? More? I know Wild Jon had a dozen or more back-ups every time we offed a Hunter back in the day....."  
"Shut your mouth. You have no right to use that man's name, ever!" Ky defended.  
"Nice..... Did you know that old man? He was Captain of you guys for a while, wasn't he? Damn that guy was ruthless. He cared about his job, boy."  
"SHUT UP!" Ky's eyes, pupils and all, went streak black.  
"It don't matter..... Y'all are about to have two less anyways."  
Marquez remained still sitting while his ten vampire cronies each cut dead sprints at the two women. Ky ducked underneath the first vampire diving at her and tugged Aimee with her. Quick thinking helped Ky throw up several shields to protect them on the way around the kitchen, but the shields were weak and the beating from the ten vampires weakened and broke them as fast as she could throw them up. Aimee saw Ky weakening and stopped running, helping her replace the same barriers that the vampires were breaking. Ky stopped using her magic, looking around for something that would keep them from dying. Over the commotion of the vampires desperate to kill them, Ky could eerily make out the laughing of Marquez over near the sink. Ky caught an idea and now, this time from excitement, her eyes burned black once again. Her entire body flexed and through sheer might, she set up and extended an energy barrier out from her body, blowing back the attacking vampires with the force of a small bomb. With a slight Latin summons and a blown kiss, a fiery bolt struck the side of the steel counter next to Marquez, who stopped laughing and ran. Ky grabbed her partner's hand and pulled her again toward the counter where the sink was: "Aimee, throw up and hold the strongest shield you can muster, NOW!" Aimee pulled herself together and, as if all she needed was to actually get used to this new life-or-death deal, beckoned forth a thick protective field to hold the vampires back. "Okay, it's up, but I'm no superhero or anything, so you've gotta hurry with whatever you're conjuring, fast!" Aimee yelled, now sweating from the exertion of holding the field together. Ky was already midway through her chant. Regardless of the heavy concentration, Aimee couldn't even come close to making out what language Ky was chanting. Ky lifted one finger and started moving the tip of it around in the air, drawing a circle with it. The other hand turned on the faucet and picked up the water gun hose. When the incantation was finished, the circle she was drawing with her finger powerfully glowed an enchanted white. She placed the circle on the head of the hose nozzle and pulled the trigger on the hose. "Aimee, let the field down!" she yelled, and Aimee replied by passing out. The vampires were struck by the water and instantly started sizzling, their skin burning away. They pulled back towards the back wall with Marquez: "Now that's a party trick. Water into acid thing?" he asked.  
"Nope..... Sanctification aura I picked up a few months back. I've never really tried it and I was pretty much praying that would work," Ky smiled.  
"I'd bet everything I own that that's drainin you pretty bad right about now, huh?" he smiled.  
"Baby, I got all you need....."  
Larson and Jules danced until it got boring and decided to head back to their seats when the doors burst open and in walked a very confident looking vampire in a suit that would put the greatest Hollywood mogul to shame. Everybody became very quiet and a small entourage of groupie vampires followed him in. Fabini looked around, taking his sunglasses off and placing them gently in his coat pocket: "Alright boys..... Tell the other fellas to come on in. Dinner's served," Fabini commanded. Larson appeared enthralled until he slowly stood from his chair and began walking towards the elegant vampire. Jules began to freak out, trying her damndest to pull him back to his chair by his jacket sleeve. Larson slipped out of her hold and gave her a slight jest of the hand, telling her that everything would be alright. "Excuse me," Larson began, seemingly starstruck, "You're Fabini, correct?"  
"What's it to ya, English?" Fabini smiled unwittingly.  
Larson punched him dead in his jaw, causing the vampire to fall to the ground. Larson smiled and looked around heroically, waving to everyone who had stopped everything and was now watching the raucous at the front. Fabini made it back to his feat and settled his nose back into socket before Larson even turned back to face him. Fabini snarled into vampire face and Larson merely choked on his words, only getting out a meager "dear lord....." Larson turned and sprinted back towards Jules, grabbing her by the hands as she grabbed her purse. The vampire entourage returned and chased them around the circumference of the reception hall, leaving Larson to dump and hide behind a table while Jules pulled several glass bottles of holy water of her purse to pelt her attackers. "What the hell was that?" Jules screamed.  
"I don't know! Nobody else was doing anything, and Lock and Gene make it sound so easy to actually kill a vampire..... One, two punches and then apply the wood to the heart. What did I do wrong?" Larson yelled back, chucking a few holy water bombs of his own.  
"I dunno, but regardless, we are so dead!" Jules exclaimed, noticing the increase of vampires entering through the front door of Aldrich Manor.  
"HUNTER!" Yossarian screamed, the wooden stake now touching the skin on his chest, "Look at those monitors! I believe your friends have all blown their cover, and I don't think wrestling with me here is doing anything to keep them alive!" Gene looked at the monitors not broken by Lock's thick head and saw one had a shot of Ky holding off a swarm of vampires in the kitchen while Larson and Jules did the same in the main hallway, now with innocent bystanders running and pleading for their lives. Lock tried to stand but fell back down, leaning against the wall. "Ahh, sweet moments like these remind me of any action movie Sandra Bullock has ever done," Yossarian laughed through his effort to keep from being dusted, "..... choices to make, choices to make..... Are you, sir, ready to bury your friends?" 


	3. Hellmouth Series: The Board, Pt 3

Hellmouth #12  
"The Board, Pt 3"  
  
"AAARRRRGG!!!!" Gene screamed, releasing his hold of the stake he was attempting to bore into Yossarian's heart with. He rushed over to Lock: "Lock, buddy, we gotta get outta here. We got trouble."  
"We're not leaving here until he's dust," Lock shouted, stumbling to his feet and checking himself for fatal wounds and possible concussions. Then he saw the monitors; he saw Larson and Jules keeping a host of vampires back with a limited supply of holy water bottles and Ky defending an unconscious Aimee with, strangely enough, an enchanted water hose. "No, you're right. Let's go." Lock and Gene completely forgot about the beating they just endured and every pain in their body went away on their way to the door. The door ruptured in towards them before they had the chance to reach it, and Brother, the Eastern Representative of the Board, stepped in menacingly. "Yossarian," he boomed, "Are you in need of assistance, my dear fr....." His speech was cut short when Lock's pointed wooden cross pierced his left breast and the vampire unexpectedly disintegrated to powdery dust.  
" Alright, you want me to take the kitchen, I'm guessing....." Gene stated, both he and Lock in mid-sprint through the hallways.  
"NO!" Lock snapped back, "I want you in the main hallways. Go ahead and give the go-ahead to the units outside, just as we planned."  
"But Lock, what about Jules?"  
"You can protect her just as easily as I can, now do it!"  
Gene cut a sharp turn through the hallways to try and cut short the time traveled traversing the massive Aldrich Manor. "Alright, Antoine, you're in charge out there. What's the prognosis?" Gene yelled into the walkie-talkie function of his cell phone.  
"Well, Lock called it; Fabini is in the mansion and he and his army are takin the front door in. They're lined up back for a while, but it looks like something happened inside cuz the line started moving in a little faster," Antoine responded.  
"Damn, it's amazing that a guy as emotionally numb as Lock is can read his enemies so well," Gene noted, ducking and weaving through the hallways as fast as his feet could take him, "Go ahead and make the call. Remember: Three-pronged attack, and the third doesn't come until my Axe units are inside. I'll meet them in the main hall..... We straight?"  
"Ten-friggin-four, hommes."  
Outside, Antoine looked at his group, a small load of five Regulars, each fully equipped with crossbows cocked and aimed. He nodded to them and they all nodded back, returning immediately to recover their aims. His crew was lined up on the far right side of the mansion entrance, covered by some tall grass. Antoine used the same walkie-talkie phone to call over to Nicholas, who was in charge of his group of five Regulars, themselves hiding on the far left side of the mansion entrance in a large ocean of shrubbery, waiting for the call. Ryan and Lion Abbit, the Abbit twins, waited near the middle, about a hundred yards from the entryway in a mass of trees with their Axe Units. Each received a call from Antoine and a reminder of the mission statement, and they then prepped their troops. They all waited with ample anticipation, remaining calm and resilient so as the vampires, in this case Fabini's horde lined up and entering the mansion in a straight, two-fold line, wouldn't be able to smell the fear or sense the quickening of the blood flow from their hearts through their veins. They all watched Antoine's hill until a small white flag, barely seeable in the night sky, rose from the tall grass. Every unit held their collective breath. A few vampires in the rear of the pack started to sense the racing pulses around them. Then the flag dropped.  
From opposing sides of the Aldrich Manor entryway, small wooden arrows tore through the chests and sides of the vampire army, dusting a solid handful. The first wave was meant to catch them off guard and confuse them; the second wave of wooden bolts were meant to take out as many as they could from a distance. The second wave managed to take down a solid dozen, about a fifth of Fabini's army in itself. The first "prong" of the attack seemed successful enough and the second was up to the Abbits and their Axe division. A grand scale war cry erupted from the lungs of the twins and the small group of eight poured down the middle of the vampire ranks, beheading as many of the fanged beasts as their blades could manage. The steady pour of vampires into Aldrich Manor became a hastened sprint inside when the horde realized they were being attacked from behind. Antoine knew that he would have to begin the third prong of the attack, and when he saw the last of the Axe Units make it through the foyer, Antoine slung his Hellfire Bomb like a major league pitcher would throw a marble. Each Regular threw the single and fragile Hellfire Bomb they carried with them at the straggling vampires or those not necessarily dusted by the first or second wave of crossbow bolts. Fabini's army was now cut in half, and that was the number they felt comfortable handling face to face.  
Lock pounded on the door to the kitchen repeatedly, hearing the commotion on the other side. Loud yells of vulgar words were shot towards Ky across the door, and Lock could distinctly hear Ky returning the resentment by curiously clever means and Lock reminded himself to talk with her later about her anger management problems. Lock looked around at ways he could possibly pry the door open but saw nothing except an electronic keypad on the frame of the door. He randomly pushed series after series of button combination, and after every five buttons he heard a little noise from the keypad, a low buzz that seemingly screamed "wrong!" Lock's anger got the most of him as well until he checked the back of his belt to find that he had carried Gene's gun along with him. He took the butt of the gun and beat in the keypad until it made a gurgled dinging noise and the door shot open. All the vampire in the kitchen area stopped and looked at Lock. Ky stopped defending herself to see what her attackers were looking at. Immediately, she dropped the sink hose and quickly levitated Aimee throwing her limp body over to Lock on the other side of the electronic door. Lock caught her and immediately laid her down on the outside. The door made a cracking noise and began to slam shut again; Lock instinctively dove inside before the door closed completely and locked once again.  
"What are you doing, Lock?" Ky screamed.  
"What, you thought you were gonna take these guys all by yourself?" Lock asked.  
"Our cover's blown....."  
"Yeah, I kinda got the impression what with the screaming and the pedestrian screaming outside....."  
Lock cocked the shotgun and let off a round into the first two vampires charging after him. Ky picked back up the "enchanted sink hose" and motioned to Lock to get over there towards her. Lock ran around the room twice, weaving in and out between stoves and refrigerators, eventually making it to the middle of the room, where Ky again pushed back the mob. Lock raised the gun again and aimed it like a rifle, pushing his back against Ky's.  
"Yeah, umm, we're surrounded....." Lock stated.  
"Thanks for that update, Mr. Jennings, now can I get my local weather?" Ky mumbled.  
"Look, all we have to do is....."  
"Shut up," she started whispering, "Look, I have something up my sleeve, kinda similar to this hose trick I'm doin, but I need some heavy concentration for this. Can you buy me some time?"  
"How am I supposed to do that? There's like, nine vampires in here, not counting Marquez over there!"  
"Lock, I trust in you, and moreso, I trust in your ability to take uncanny quantities of punishment. Just do it, please?" She handed her hose to Lock, who double fisted the two gun-like weapons he had.  
"Listen up!" Lock began, " The shotgun in my right hand is loaded with enough Oak in it to put down a good handful of you and my hose here is..... well..... I'm guessing pretty holy at the moment somehow, and I know y'all cant stand that stuff. I know you all can take me and her easily, but I will definitely take the majority of you out first if you try. Any of you think you're lucky enough to make it out alive? Which one of y'all is willing to be the first to be dust?"  
"Kill him," Marquez stated bluntly, and the pack started to move in.  
"WAIT! Okay, y'all called my bluff! I gotcha. But I got something better in mind! Marquez. Me and you, man to..... Well, beast, I suppose. I'll put these down too; all I'll have is one stake. You kill me, and you can have her. She wont put up a fight or anything. Right Ky?" She continued mumbling things under her breath that obviously weren't in English.  
"Damn," Marquez said, "I thought at least I'd hear the whole 'Take me, let her live' routine again. I mean, that kinda stuff makes me happy, because it makes both of y'all much more afraid when I kill you both anyway. But you're offering us her as a prize if you cant beat me? Plus look at you! You're torn up as it is! Look, I'm game if you are, but don't you wanna go out with a better fight?"  
Lock dropped his guns and charged, nailing Marquez in the face twice and kneeing him hard in the gut. Marquez dropped to his knees and caught a viscous elbow to the skull, dropping him. He jumped back up and caught another handful of fury punches and elbows, including a sweep kick that downed Marquez yet again. Marquez jumped back up, furiously annoyed at some human being showing him up while his crew watched. Lock came in again, nailing one incensed shot to the vampire's jaw and missing the second, himself taking a hard knee to the gut and several blows to his skull. Lock's concussion started coming back on him and his feet became less sturdy. His knees buckled and he fell, catching himself with his hands on the ground and taking another kick to his exposed ribcage. He fell over onto his back and dodged a quick attack by Marquez, apparently being Marquez's kill-shot. Lock twirled his legs around and tripped the demon, cutting him down to his level. Lock sat up and grabbed his stake, driving it towards Marquez's chest. Marquez grabbed Lock's hand and slammed it to the ground; he rolled over and onto his knees, standing up to his feet, twisting Lock's arm behind his back and clutching harder to his wrist. Locked screamed in agony over the jolting pain in his arm, the bruising in his ribs, and the puncture wound in his shoulder, all being stretched and twisted while Marquez laughed a distinct and annoying chortle. He opened his mouth to say something but a crackle of what seemed like electricity popped in the air. He turned back to Ky, whose eyes were open and solid black, her lips whispering one last prayer, and the crackle burst into a solid white field of glowing energy, an intensely larger version of the hex she put on the sink hose, covering the length and width of the ceiling. Gritting his teeth through the pain, Lock looked up and immediately knew what Ky had done, and he smiled at her ingenuity. He reached behind him in his back pocket with his one free hand and pulled out a small box; he opened it up with his fingers and pulled out his one Hellfire Bomb out of the heavy padding in the small box and he threw it at the ceiling above Marquez's gang. They scattered immediately as the flames caught the ceiling and tumbled to the floor beneath it, but more importantly, the flames prompted the emergency sprinkler system in the roof to go off, cascading water throughout the entirety of the kitchen. The water passed through Ky's ceiling-wide sanctification aura, becoming holy water, burning the flesh off of every vampire in the room. Marquez whispered a small, vulgar phrase before he turned to dust completely, as did his entire regime.  
Lock pulled himself to his knees and turned to Ky; her body was shaking and her eyes were slowly fading back to their natural color. The field on the ceiling faded and Ky buckled, falling to the floor. Lock shuffled to his feet and wobbled over to her, himself tripping over every step. "Ky? Ky?" he beckoned. Her eyes opened up and a smile came across her face. In a weakened whimper, she said, "Don't count me out yet. Miles to go before this old witch can hang up the broom, heh....." Suddenly and without halt, Lock gently cradled her head in his palm and placed his lips on hers. Her eyes shot wide, closed tight due to the water from the sprinklers in the roof, and slowly softened as the kiss became more passionate. The dust that had settled caked on the floor and washed away into the drain pipe wedged in the middle of the ceramic tile. Lock settled his free hand on her cheek, and her hand moved up to caress his. They held the kiss ardently, forgetting the pain or fatigue they felt or the danger thye were still in; nothing mattered but that moment and that kiss. The fire was out and the "rain" had stopped. The water floated away and every sensation they felt became more powerful than the next. Lock flexed his arms and soothingly began to lay her down on the floor. The cold wetness of the tile sent shivers throughout Ky's body, enough to wake her up from the rapture of the kiss. "Whoa, cowboy," she mumbled, her whole body moving to break the contact of his lips of which he persisted. She slid her body from under his and pulled herself to her feet; she stumbled with every step walking away from him, eventually falling back down to her knees and pulling herself back up to lean against a counter. Lock stood: "Are you okay?" he asked.  
"What in the world was that?" she asked.  
"I dunno. I'm guessin it turned the water to holy water or something. I thought you did it."  
"Not that..... The kiss?"  
"Oh..... It was a kiss."  
"Got that part. Why did it happen?"  
"I dunno. Everything was scary and when it was all over, I thought you were dead or something. The emotion just hit me."  
"Do you share passionate kisses with Gene after every near death experience?"  
Lock smiled: "Not after he stopped appreciating them....."  
"Cut it out Lock! What was that?"  
"Hey now, you kissed me back just as hard as I kissed you....."  
"Reflex, Lock! I was pretty much caught off guard there!"  
"You didn't like it?"  
"That isn't the question, Lock. What about Jules?"  
"What about her? This was heat of the moment! It's not like I've been thinking about..... C'mon, let's get outta here," Lock stood and paused.  
"Lock?"  
"C'mon! Aimee should be awake by now. If she can open the door for us from the outside, we can....."  
"LOCK!"  
"Ky! Look, we can talk about this later, in great detail. Hell we can bring a damn psychiatrist with us and we can analyze this into the ground but right now, Gene's in trouble and Larson and ..... Seriously, are you okay?"  
Ky looked at him, her natural defenses dropping and her head swimming in a sea of confusion. Her eyes swelled and a tear fell down the cheek that Lock had held, "Yeah..... I'm just drained. That last spell did it for me. I can barely walk right now. I've never cast a spell that big before....."  
"Well, plus five for style, sweetie," Lock said, placing his arm around her, assisting her to the door.  
Jacob Manning stood on a third floor balcony overlooking the main hall where Larson and Jules fought for their lives. "Yes, sir, I understand. No, it's just a small domestic struggle between a few of my louder friends. No sir, no police. Don't bother with them. We can handle everything just fine. Yes, sir. Thank you. Well, I'm getting a beep, so I'll have to call you back. Yes, and congratulations on the new baby. First born, eh? I'll have to keep that in mind. Have a good one." He presses a button and brings the phone back to his ear, looking over the carnage. "Manning speaking..... No kidding, this plan's gone to hell. Are you all right? Yes, well, Fabini's here, and I'm assuming the Hunters are here for him, so I'll let them handle each other. Marquez is dead? Brother too? Right in front of you? How did you escape? That close, huh? Well, I have the money, so I'm guessing it's just me and you now. We have enough. What say we make a quick and subtle exit and leave them to their own devices. Excellent. I'll meet you at our appointed spot." Jacob closed the phone shut and placed it back in his jacket pocket. He took one last peer over the chaos that dismantled his beautiful fundraiser, shaking his head as he grabbed his money and made his way through the back halls and to the back where his private limousine waited.  
Gene sprinted down the home stretch of hall leading directly to the main hallway and kicked the door, his speed carrying him clean through it. Gene tripped and hit the ground; he rolled onto his feet and struck a quick action pose, exemplifying his melodramatic fighting style. Larson and Jules threw their last holy water bottle and the vampire army stopped quick to see what broke through the door. Gene blinked, and a vampire in front screamed "GET HIM!!!!"  
"Oh shi....." Gene yelled out, stopping to pivot and sprint the other way. The army charged after him, but a louder blare came rumbling through the front: Ryan and Lion pummeled and beheaded their way clean through the path, as did the rest of their Axe Units. Gene sighed and caught the axe blade that Ryan chucked at him: "Ahh, god bless the cavalry," he mumbled. The chaos came to order quickly, the axe units holding back the beasts from the front as Antoine lead the second charge of his Regulars at the rear.  
"AIMEE!!!! AIMEE, CAN YOU HEAR ME???? IT'S LOCK!!! YOU HAVE TO BANG THE KEYPAD UNTIL IT OPENS!!!!" Lock yelled across the kitchen door.  
"Rather crude, don't you think?" Ky said, especially surprised when she heard a loud banging noise and the door opening.  
"Whatever works," Lock smiled, "Aimee, are you okay?"  
"Nothing major..... Slight fracture of the dignity, there, but the nap did me some good. How'd I get out here?" Aimee asked.  
"Ky'll fill you in, but she aint doin that great..... I'm headin to the main hall. Watch her for me," Lock commanded, peeling off his soaking wet tuxedo jacket and making his way down the labyrinth of hallways.  
Down the final stretch of hallway, Lock could see through the door that Gene burst through and he was greatly relieved when he saw that Gene had come through in ordering the others inside. He pulled out his stake and ran through the open doorway. On first glance, the pride in his heart swelled. Jamie roundhouse kicked a vampire twice in the face, rolled between its legs when it turned around and in mid-split, he gouged the stake upwards and through the demon's heart. Art and Antoine double teamed a vampire, rapid-fire-punching it in the face continuously, making a small game out of it until Nick ran by and shot a crossbow bolt through its chest; Art and Antoine didn't like Nick stealing their glory. Through the crowd, Lock caught a glimpse of Gene, swinging his axe furiously at a target who was quickly evading the blows; it was Fabini. Lock became all business yet again; he caught eyes with Nicholas who was reloading his crossbow, and Nick fully understood. He reached around to the back of his belt and pulled out a small machete, tossing it to his captain. Lock peeled out and jumped clean through the crowd, intertwining his body through the various small battles and dustings until he was close enough to take his first swing, a swipe that cut clean through Fabini's jacket and slightly into his skin. The vampire winced and ducked, narrowly avoiding a decapitation from Gene's blade. Gene and Lock took turns taking their swings at Fabini, who escaped each slice with blinding speed and the grace of a dancer, nailing a punch to Gene and a donkey-kick to Lock's face. The wild swinging of the blade was getting them nowhere at this point, and Fabini laughed at their mild attempts at killing them and the frustration that washed over Lock's face with every swing. Lock threw the blade down and started swinging in with his fists, and again, with hastened agility, Fabini fended off every effort. Gene dove at Fabini's back with the axe in a stabbing motion and Fabini pirouetted out of harm's way, the axe instead diving into Lock's thigh. The stab wound was rather shallow, but Lock's howl of pain stunned Gene, who took a swinging fist to his temple from the vampire.  
Fabini ran then, slightly out of the crowd. He knew that there was little chance that any other member of the Board was still there, and he knew even more that everything that he had drawn out for months didn't once take into consideration that the Hunters were going to show; his plan failed. His enemies were gone, and he knew that he couldn't keep up the "missed me" game with Locklear for much longer. This was most definitely Lock's fault, he thought. Without question, that boy has ruined everything in the vampire's post life since the moment they met in that alleyway months back. He would have to pay, Fabini thought, even worse than Manning and Yossarian have it coming, but definitely not tonight. Tonight is done. Fabini started to move his way towards the stairs that led to a rear exit from the main hall to the outside via a small garden. Lock pulled the axe tip out of his leg and screamed again at the pain, enough to alarm and hasten the departing vampire even more. Near the door to the exit, Fabini spotted Larson huddled behind a toppled desk, obviously waiting for the slaughter to end before showing his face. Fabini grabbed him by the back of his neck and held him up against the wall, "Well, I'm headin out, and I just wanted to thank you for that nice love tap you gave me back there earlier." Fabini gave Larson the same respect, nailing him hard in his stomach, making Larson cough up a thin stream of blood. "Give my respect to the royal family....." Fabini reached back and readied his kill-blow until Jules dove out from the same hiding spot Larson was in, waving a cross and stabbing Fabini in the back with it. Fabini dropped Larson hard and when he turned to face his assailant, things became perfectly clear to him. He grabbed Jules by her hair and dragged her into the outside garden.  
"Shut up! SHUT UP!" he screamed at her as he toppled a tall statue to block the door shut; Jules knew the danger she was in, and she cried out in pain and fear. "This aint a bad thing here, sweetheart!" Her eyes poured out tears as she mumbled her pleas, nothing sounding anything coherent. "Listen, this is the best for both of us. I get to torment my enemy by killing his girlfriend," he smiled, his forehead arching and his teeth growing into a violent and horribly disfigured face, "and you get eternal life."  
".....please..... Please don't do this..... I didn't do anything to you....." she begged, growling through her sobs.  
"Bad associations, my dear. Hell, that's how I turned out the way I am. You don't deserve to die, but it's the choices you make that put you in this little conundrum. This is Locklear's fault, you realize, and he could be here taking your place, but he wont. We all know he wont face me one-on-one. So this is like..... Revenge on the run, I suppose. Trust me, you win in the long run." He pushed her neck to the side as she screamed in agonizing horror and he sank his fangs into her neck, draining her of her life. Back in the main hall, Lock limped his way through the path of destruction that Fabini had cleared through. The fighting was nearly over, and it was quite obvious that the Hunters would be claiming a victory in this battle. Fabini's trail went cold as the destruction slimmed to merely a few remaining vampires, all of which were attempting to escape. Against the wall, Larson was pulling himself up to his knees wiping the blood from his lips and tuxedo shirt. "Larson, where is he?" Lock yelled, running to the former Watcher as best he could.  
"She's with him," Larson coughed.  
"She?"  
"..... Jules..... Fabini took her....." Larson pointed in the direction of the garden door. Lock sprinted over to the door and jiggled the handle, which wasn't locked but he couldn't seem to get the door open. "FABINI!!!!" he screamed across the door.  
Fabini could more than hear Lock jamming the door, and he knew couldn't seem to drain Jules fast enough. His body quaked in apprehension, knowing that if Lock could manage to break down that door, there would be nothing stopping the Hunter captain from killing him. Jules was drained enough in his opinion; he let go of her body enough so that her comatose state forced her body to slump to the ground. He picked her up with his stomach to her back and he cut his wrist with her fingernail. His body shook more as the anticipation of the door breaking open became more and more severe, and he thrust his wrist to her mouth. Her body was weak and her mind was quiet, overheated from the terror, and her lips wouldn't grasp the blood-soaked wrist of the vampire. "Wake up, bitch!" he yelled, shaking her head viciously. Her mouth parted and a moan came out, but she refused to drink. The door boomed the sound of hammering on the other side, and Jules could hear her lover's voice screaming for her assailant's heart. A second boom jarred her body, thrusting it to as much consciousness as her near-bloodless body could manage. She felt her heart slowing and her eyes growing heavier, the objects around her growing blurry and the garden becoming slightly colder than it once was. The wrist directly in front of her dripped a thick, crimson liquid down Fabini's cold skin to the floor, and her inborn instinct to survive drew her to it. Her lips closed on the wrist and she nursed the blood down her throat. The blood was surprisingly cold, as if it lacked life, but it held a slow burn trickling through her body.  
The door frame split through with Gene's axe and a half a second later, Lock burst through, shoulders first. He leaped over the fallen statue and immediately lifted and fired a single bolt from Nicholas's crossbow. Instinctively, Fabini turned to use his victim as a human shield, effectively letting her take the bolt in her stomach. Jules cried out in a loud shriek, falling to the ground when Fabini turned and darted towards the outside gate. Lock dashed after the monster, loading another wooden bolt into the crossbow. Fabini had gotten too close to the gate and Lock knew he wouldn't catch him, so he stopped; he lifted the crossbow like he was aiming a real bow and arrow. He took a deep breath. Fabini jumped into the air to clear the cast iron gate and Lock pulled the trigger. The arrow struck the vampire in the middle of his right calf as he cringed and screamed, eventually finding his way over the gate and out of harm's way. Lock fell to his knees; he was exhausted and everything he had hoped for tonight failed. Fabini's still out there, Manning and Yossarian got out clean, and Jules.....  
"LOCK!!! LOCK!!!!" Gene screamed from the garden. Lock turned around and saw Gene, tear-stained eyes opened as wide as they ever could, holding Jules's limp body in his arms, "Lock! She's got a pulse!" 


End file.
